Chapter I (5)
(224.) The proof, too, that our data _are_ correctly assumed, is involved in the general verification of the whole theory, of which, when once assumed, they form a part; and the same comparison with observation which enables us to decide on the truth of the abstract principle, enables us, at the same time, to ascertain whether we have fixed the values of our data in accordance with the actual state of nature. If not, it becomes an important question, whether the assumed values can be corrected, so as to bring the results of theory to agree with facts? Thus it happens, that as theories approach to their perfection, a more and more exact determination of data becomes requisite. Deviations from observed fact, which, in a first or approximative verification, may be disregarded as trifling, become important when a high degree of precision is attained. A difference between the calculated and observed places of a planet, which would have been disregarded by Kepler in his verification of the law of elliptic motion, would now be considered fatal to the theory of gravity, unless it could be shown to arise from an erroneous assumption of some of the numerical data of our system.
(225.) The observations most appropriate for the ready and exact determination of physical data are, therefore, those which it is most necessary to have performed with exactness and perseverance. Hence it is, that their performance, in many cases, becomes a national concern, and observatories are erected and maintained, and expeditions despatched to distant regions, at an expense which, to a superficial view, would appear most disproportioned to their objects. But it may very reasonably be asked why the direct assistance afforded by governments to the execution of continued series of observations adapted to this especial end should continue to be, as it has hitherto almost exclusively been, confined to astronomy.
(226.) Physical data intended to be employed as elements of calculation in extensive theories, require to be known with a much greater degree of exactness than any single observation possesses, not only on account of their dignity and importance, as affording the means of representing an indefinite multitude of facts; but because, in the variety of combinations that may arise, or in the changes that circumstances may undergo, cases will occur when any trifling error in one of the data may become enormously magnified in the final result to be compared with observation. Thus, in the case of an eclipse of the sun, when the moon enters very obliquely upon the sun’s disc, a trifling error in the diameter of either the sun or moon may make a great one in the time when the eclipse shall be announced to commence. It ought to be remarked, that these are, of all others, the conjunctures where observations are most available for the determination of data; for, by the same rule that a small change in the data will, in such cases, produce a great one in the thing to be observed; so, _vice versâ_, any moderate amount of error, committed in an observation undertaken for ascertaining its value, can produce but a very trifling one in the _reverse_ calculation from which the data come to be determined by observation. This remark extends to every description of physical data in every department of science, and is never to be overlooked when the object in view is the determination of data with the last degree of precision.
(227.) But how, it may be asked, are we to ascertain _by_ observation, data more precise than observation itself? How are we to conclude the value of that which we do not see, with greater certainty than that of quantities which we actually see and measure? It is the number of observations which may be brought to bear on the determination of data that enables us to do this. Whatever error we may commit in a single determination, it is highly improbable that we should always err the same way, so that, when we come to take an average of a great number of determinations, (unless there be some constant cause which gives a bias one way or the other,) we cannot fail, at length, to obtain a very near approximation to the truth, and, even allowing a bias, to come much nearer to it than can fairly be expected from any single observation, liable to be influenced by the same bias.
(228.) This useful and valuable property of the average of a great many observations, that it brings us nearer to the truth than any single observation can be relied on as doing, renders it the most constant resource in all physical enquiries where accuracy is desired. And it is surprising what a rapid effect, in equalizing fluctuations and destroying deviations, a moderate multiplication of individual observations has. A better example can hardly be taken than the average height of the quicksilver in the common barometer, which measures the pressure of the air, and whose fluctuations are proverbial. Nevertheless, if we only observe it regularly every day, and, at the end of each month, take an average of the observed heights, we shall find the fluctuations surprisingly diminished in amount; and if we go on for a whole year, or for many years in succession, the annual averages will be found to agree with still greater exactness. This equalizing power of averages, by destroying all such fluctuations as are irregular or accidental, frequently enables us to obtain evidence of fluctuations really regular, periodic in their recurrence, and so much smaller in their amount than the accidental ones, that, but for this mode of proceeding, they never would have become apparent. Thus, if the height of the barometer be observed four times a day, constantly, for a few months, and the averages taken, it will be seen that a regular _daily_ fluctuation, of very small amount, takes place, the quicksilver rising and falling twice in the four-and-twenty hours. It is by such observations that we are enabled to ascertain--what no single measure (unless by a fortunate coincidence), could give us any idea, and never any certain knowledge of--the true _sea level_ at any part of the coast, or the height at which the water of the ocean would stand, if perfectly undisturbed by winds, waves, or tides: a subject of very great importance, and upon which it would be highly desirable to possess an extensive series of observations, at a great many points on the coasts of the principal continents and islands over the whole globe.
(229.) In all cases where there is a direct and simple relation between the phenomenon observed and a single _datum_ on which it depends, every single observation will give a value of this quantity, and the average of all (under certain restrictions) will be its exact value. We say, under certain restrictions; for, if the circumstances under which the observations are made be not alike, they may not all be equally favourable to exactness, and it would be doing injustice to those most advantageous, to class them with the rest. In such cases as these, as well as in cases where the _data_ are numerous and complicated together, so as not to admit of single, separate determination (a thing of continual occurrence), we have to enter into very nice, and often not a little intricate, considerations respecting the _probable_ accuracy of our results, or the limits of error within which it is _probable_ they lie. In so doing we are obliged to have recourse to a refined and curious branch of mathematical enquiry, called the doctrine of probabilities, the object of which (as its name imports) is to reduce our estimation of the probability of any conclusion to calculation, so as to be able to give more than a mere guess at the degree of reliance which ought to be placed in it.
(230.) To give some general idea of the considerations which such computations involve, let us imagine a person firing with a pistol at a wafer on a wall ten yards distant: we might, in a general way, take it for granted, that he would hit the wall, but not the wafer, at the first shot; but if we would form any thing like a probable conjecture of _how near_ he would come to it, we must first have an idea of his skill. No better way of judging could be devised than by letting him fire a hundred shots at it, and marking where they all struck. Suppose this done,--suppose the wafer has been hit once or twice, that a certain number of balls have hit the wall within an inch of it, a certain number between one and two inches, and so on, and that one or two have been some feet wide of the mark. Still the question arises, what estimate are we thence to form of his skill? how _near_ (or nearer) may we, after this experience, safely, or at least not unfairly, bet that he will come to the mark the next subsequent shot? This the laws of probability enable us on such data to say. Again, suppose, _before_ we were allowed to measure the distances, the wafer were to have been taken away, and we were called upon, on the mere evidence of the marks on the wall, to say where it had been placed; it is clear that no reasoning would enable any one to say with certainty; yet there is assuredly one place which we may fix on with greater probability of being right than any other. Now, this is a very similar case to that of an observer--an astronomer for example--who would determine the exact place of a heavenly body. He points to it his telescope, and obtains a series of results disagreeing among themselves, but yet all agreeing within certain limits, and only a comparatively small number of them deviating considerably from the mean of all; and from these he is called upon to say, definitively, what he shall consider to have been the most probable place of his star at the moment. Just so in the calculation of physical _data_; where no two results agree exactly, and where all come within limits, some wide, some close, what have we to guide us when we would make up our minds what to conclude respecting them? It is evident that any system of calculation that can be shown to lead of necessity to the most probable conclusion where certainty is not to be had must be valuable. However, as this doctrine is one of the most difficult and delicate among the applications of mathematics to natural philosophy, this slight mention of it must suffice at present.
(231.) In the foregoing pages we have endeavoured to explain the spirit of the methods to which, since the revival of philosophy, natural science has been indebted for the great and splendid advances it has made. What we have all along most earnestly desired to impress on the student is, that natural philosophy is essentially united in all its departments, through all which one spirit reigns and one method of enquiry applies. It cannot, however, be studied as a whole, without subdivision into parts; and, in the remainder of this discourse, we shall therefore take a summary view of the progress which has been made in the different branches into which it may be most advantageously so subdivided, and endeavour to give a general idea of the nature of each, and of its relations to the rest. In the course of this, we shall have frequent opportunity to point out the influence of those general principles we have above endeavoured to explain, on the progress of discovery. But this we shall only do as cases arise, without entering into any regular analysis of the history of each department with that view. Such an analysis would, indeed, be a most useful and valuable work, but would far exceed our present limits. We are not, however, without a hope that this great desideratum in science will, ere long, be supplied from a quarter every way calculated to do it justice.
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Preliminary Discourse on the Study of Natural PhilosophyChapter I (5)
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